Sunset
by jessisparks2315
Summary: Those moments between "Twilight" and "Kill Ari Chapter 1." Gibbs faces the music, and Tony faces Kate. Rated for language.
1. Chapter 1

It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

Everyone knew the risks, no one expected them.

Except for him. He expected everything. _"Anticipate, McGee!"_ he'd said. There are no coincidences, there are no surprises, not when your plan splits into a thousand possible terminations at its end with every possible conclusion imaginable. Yet this one had remained unimagined.

Tony had her blood on his face. He was so absorbed in searching the neighboring rooftops that he hardly seemed to notice, flinched when a droplet slid into his eye. Gibbs had never seen DiNozzo shaken up, but the field agent's face locked into a mask of horror, he nearly dropped his weapon, blinking rapidly, gun shaking.

"DiNozzo!" he barked, voice declining into a snarl. Kate was _dead_, damn it, and it was because of him. It wasn't Tony's fault, but he could see the self-accusations start, _why hadn't he seen it coming, why hadn't he been just a few inches over, why hadn't he told her to go back downstairs? _

"Boss?" Tony choked. He couldn't seem to bring himself to look down, not past the edge of the rooftop.

"Get the hell off of the roof."

"Yes, boss." He knew his agents. If he wanted Tony to move after a blow like that, he was going to have to beat him into shape. Orders. Insults. Get the boy moving. Keep his mind working, so that Gibbs could keep his own running straight, for just another minute, another half a second at least. DiNozzo stumbled on his way to the door. "Tony."

Not even a "_boss?_" The younger man just looked at him through his mask of blood, another order like a lifeline in the impending madness.

"Get Ducky. Get Ducky now."

"On it," Tony rasped. The door closed.

Silence reigned, but for the sound of the wind.

_He killed me, Gibbs_, Kate said, staring glassily up at him from the rooftop. _How could you let him kill me, like this? I didn't even have a chance. How could you?_

"Kate," he said, helplessly. "Kate."

_Don't make excuses, Gibbs. This is on you._

"I couldn't - I. God damn it." Gibbs raked a hand through his hair, feeling the edges and claws of the madness he had seen in Tony. His snipers eyes had found the nest on the other building. The only place he could have been. The madness snarled and scratched at his throat, boiling into a scream. "_Ari!_" he bellowed. "_ARI!" _

His own echo roared back at him, and the madness sucked his strength like a parasite. He sank beside Kate. Her blood stained the knee of his slacks.

"God damn it, Kate. I'll kill him. I swear to God, I'll kill the bastard."

_You will. _She mocked him with her unresponsive eyes. _And that'll bring me back to life, won't it?_

"Kate," he said again, and he heard his own voice crack into weakness, unable to bear the weight of his own guilt, and he found that was all he could say, the only word he could carry was, "Kate."

But Kate had fallen silent.


	2. Chapter 2

The building was empty. Or so it felt. Tony stood without moving, eyes on the glass.

Kate's blood. It was still in flecks on his face. He could feel it, almost as if it were burning him, but something in him couldn't move enough to wipe it off. He could still feel the sting of it in his eyes. Whatever that... _it _was, it was shifting and curling through his brain like a sleepy cat, twisting languorously across his synapses and memories and refusing to let him process.

Caitlin Todd. His partner. Fellow agent. Possessor of that couldn't-get-this-on-your-life-DiNozzo charm that eluded him, and possibly of a leftover Catholic schoolgirl uniform. Formerly of Secret Service. Currently of NCIS. Currently... currently... formerly.

His jaw locked, glaring icily at his own reflection as the _it_ stopped stretching and started clawing. Gibbs would be blaming himself, right at this moment, which was preposterous, because it wasn't his fault, and everyone but Gibbs would know it.

Abby. Abby was Kate's best friend. She would be crushed. Memory of Abby linked to memory of... Abby's dream. Blood on his face. Oh, Abby.

Oh, Kate.

_You were two feet away from me, Tony,_ she said, leaning back against the wall. _And he still got me? You didn't stand tall enough?_

"No, Kate," he said, eyes for some reason glued to a silver gleam on the faucet. He couldn't lift his hands high enough to turn on the water.

He felt her attitude soften, behind him. He'd always been able to sense her. Her moods, her thoughts. All the better to exploit them for comedy, most of the time, but sometimes just enough, just perfectly to say exactly the right thing.

He leaned his head back, hands on the tap, and closed his eyes, feeling as though he were fighting for breath.

And he felt her hands on his.

_Come on, DiNozzo,_ she whispered. _Turn the water on._

"I can't, Kate." He didn't know why he couldn't. Except that those stains on his face, in some sickening way, were the last things tying him to her. Perhaps the last thing keeping her here.

_Tony._ She'd never stood this close to him before, of her own volition, but he could feel her words against his neck and her chin against his shoulder as she reached around him to the sink. _Turn the water on. I thought you weren't afraid of anything._

"I should have been. But now it's too late."

_Not for you. It's not. It wasn't your fault, Tony, and you have to be strong. Think of the team. Abby's going to need you to keep her going. McGee needs you to smack him around a little._ Her voice was almost coaxing, but still quiet_. So wash up, Senior Field Agent. You have a job to do._

"Okay," he said, tilting his head downward again. He didn't open his eyes. Her hands pushed his, lightly, turning the taps with him.

_There you go_, she said as the water rushed into the basin. _Don't let them see you break. I know you can do it. Remember._

"They won't see anything," he promised, but he made no move to touch the water. "I-" He stopped.

_What is it, DiNozzo_?

"I love you, Kate," he said, opening his eyes. And the words echoed off the tiles of the empty room.

Agent DiNozzo washed his face and stood straight.

_Don't let them see you break._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the responses guys! Love feedback. I think this will be my last perspective, and I want to hear what you thought of it. AND if you want another perspective, let me know! (Also... over 400 hits on this story... and well, not 400 reviews. C'mon. I need some feedback.) In any case - enjoy. :)**

* * *

_Ah._

It was supposed to happen in exactly this way.

"Sorry, Caitlin," he'd said, and he was, in some fashion. Sorry the game was over. Sorry at the loss of a toy. But his smile spoke volumes.

That night, Ari Haswari slept comfortably, awoke briefly at 3 o clock in the morning, and went to the bathroom to splash his face with cool water.

_So clever, Ari,_ she said, staring him down from the mirror. _You think you're so clever._

He couldn't help it. He flinched.

Recovering himself, he finished washing his face. He was tired, and many nights with little sleep obviously led to such misconceptions as this. Agent Todd was dead. Ari lay back down, blankets pulled halfway up in the warm hotel room, and began to slowly drift back into sleep.

_Wake up!_ she shrieked, directly by his ear, and he sat bolt upright, gun out from under his pillow in less than the time it takes to blink, aimed at... nothingness.

She laughed, and this time it was on his other side. He swung the gun to the left, refusing to let anything show on his face, but there was no one there.

He cursed. He was sure he'd heard the voice. Caitlin. There was no mistaking it. Their encounter in autopsy had branded her into his memory, and her murder - his kill - had only served to reinforce this. But she was dead. He had seen her. He had _shot_ her.

_It doesn't matter what you think, Ari,_ she said, leaning against the wall beside the window so that the shadows from the cigarette-scented drapes obscured half her body. He could see her legs and boots and the slightest gleam of her badge.

"You... are _dead_, Caitlin," he said. "You are _dead_."

_So... you're talking to a wall, then, Haswari. _Kate swaggered out from the shadow to stare at him. There was blood on her face. From the wound in her forehead. The wound he had inflicted. _I suggest getting help for that. And that paranoia that's all over your face._ She sat back casually in an armchair and delicately brushed away the bead of blood sliding past her eyebrow. Examining it, she said, _I know what DiNozzo would say. Very _Sixth Sense_. Except the _Sixth Sense _was creepier. I can work on that, you know. Being creepy._

He lay back down, determinedly. Whatever was happening, it would not detract from the mission. And for the mission he needed sleep. Caitlin - whatever figment of his imagination she was - could wait for the morning.

Another shriek, and he jerked upward again.

_Get used to it, Ari, _she whispered directly into his ear. _It's going to be a long, long night._

And it was.

Caitlin - _NO! Not Caitlin, a manifestation of his stress, an invention of a tired mind, he was convinced of it!_ - haunted him for the next day and a half, refusing him sleep, refusing him peace. He had never once felt guilt for her death, but some strange emotion like it was fluttering around the edges of his conscience (what little there was left) like a moth around a match, and whatever she was laughed at him for it, hurled insults, drove him _mad_ in a matter of hours, until he hurled the dingy ashtray beside his bed at the invisible specter and howled, told her that _this ends now!_

_..._

She was still there as he sat in Gibbs' basement, holding the rifle that had ended her life. He was muttering, knowing he sounded as mad as he felt, but knowing that his plan was without flaw. Gibbs, lay flowers on a rooftop? He may have taken Ziva in for a fool, but never Ari. Never.

"It's called a Kate, you know, Caitlin." He smiled. "And your Gibbs knows this. He blames himself for your death. But he'll be with you soon, so you can remind him how guilty he is."

Kate said nothing, and he looked around. She wasn't there? It was a sign. It _had_ been the stress, playing tricks on him. The basement was empty. And Ari's plan rolled, clicking on the cogs like clockwork. His conversation with Gibbs was nearly rehearsed, his revelations of his heritage, his very raising of the rifle, where it fit so neatly against his shoulder; even the slight intake of breath before touching the trigger -

_Good bye, _she whispered, and he hesitated fractionally before _snap!_ Something picked him up and hurled him forward and he was standing behind Gibbs, looking down at his own body. Kate stood at the top of the stairs, beside... Ziva. Who held a gun.

"_Good bye, Ari_," she said, and he looked up to see her more clearly than he could see Ziva or Gibbs, laughing harshly, eyes narrow but brilliant.

Something like fear seared through him. And he was gone.


End file.
